Three 2020 Insights
Patrick Vaughn, Pinnacle Associate
Like so many, my friend, Mildred, is weary of the pandemic. She sighs. “Enough is enough. I just wish the virus would go away.” At 83 she wants to stay informed but she can’t bring herself to watch the news anymore. The voices of political pundits and the images of racial unrest are too unsettling and disturbing. Seeking solace Mildred, then, turned to the Weather Channel. It seemed a safe distraction. What could possibly be upsetting about the weather? Unfortunately, her reprieve proved to be short lived. Not even the Weather Chanel was safe. Her television screen was soon filled with news and forecasts about deadly hurricanes and raging wildfires!
Like Mildred, many of us are feeling anxious, frustrated, fearful, and hopeless. Our nerves are frayed, and our spirits are heavy. Cognitive dissonance has become our daily companion. As necessary as it is to contain the spread of the pathogen and decrease the risk of infection, social distancing has left us painfully isolated. We are cut off from the very resource that offers us strength and comfort when we feel vulnerable and alone, the gift of community.
What that are we to do?
Where might we turn?
There are a few things we can keep in mind.
First, it can be enormously helpful simply to name the truth of our lives.
Yes, we are afraid.
Yes, we do grieve the loss of a sense of stability and safety.
Yes, coping with our many challenges is tough.
Yes, we are weary.
These statements can ground us in our lived reality and free us from the exhausting and counterproductive labor of denial.
As we name what hurts and frightens us, we can develop greater resiliency, deeper empathy, and more buoyant hope.
Second, 2020 is a powerful reminder that as advanced as our civilization might be, we have far more in common with those who lived 500, 1000, 2000 years or more ago. We can split the atom and communicate with virtually anyone around the world via Zoom. We can detect water on Mars and discern evidence of a black hole millions of light years away.
Yet, like our ancestors we remain remarkably vulnerable creatures. A microscopic virus brought our world to a standstill, disrupted our economy, and has already claimed the lives of a million people.
I have no Pollyanna view of history, but I do find reassurance in knowing that our current challenges are not unique to us. Humanity has been struggling with plague and pestilence for millennia.
In Psalm 91:3 we read an affirmation of God’s faithfulness:
“For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence.”
I will never read this verse again the way I did pre-pandemic. Now, I hear the promise much more personally, poignantly, and powerfully.
Finally, our current context can help clarify our calling. For decades being a Christian in our county tended to be equated with being a good American citizen. What is a Christian? Well, she is polite, kind, goes to worship, and, perhaps, participates in civic organizations. These are not inherently bad, of course. I would hope that following Jesus would help us to become a kinder and more polite people.
But there is more to the story.
We call Jesus Lord, and that seems appropriately deferential. In the first century, however, the citizens of Rome called Caesar Lord. To call Jesus Lord was an affront to the political order.
We call Jesus Son of God. That seems reassuring until we remember that Caesar was called Son of God.
Jesus is described as the Prince of Peace, but Caesar was hailed as the one who brought peace to the world.
These titles ascribed to Jesus brought tremendous hope to the downtrodden, poor and oppressed of Jesus’ day, but they also served as a direct and dangerous assault on its prevailing priorities, assumptions and power structures.
What is our calling today, then, in light of how Jesus was understood then? Our current situation has stripped away the convenient connection between politics and faith that many of us have so long enjoyed. In a world that has seen a million lives claimed by Coivd-19, untold thousands afflicted by economic devastation, and a populace pushed by fear and isolation to despair, our former reduction of faith to being a good citizen simpy no longer suffices.
Difficult and uncomfortable questions demand our attention:
How sufficient is our health care system for all people regardless of social status?
What powers and principalities are threatened by the movement for racial justice?
How will we as churches bear witness to a Lord who embraces the sick, the marginalized and forgotten in a world that continues to idealize the powerful, the successful, and the strong?
I join with Mildred. “Enough is enough.” I long to return to restaurants and movie theaters. I miss in person worship and want to be able to visit family members without the need for social distancing.
But, until then, I hope we will be able to name truth, to appreciate anew what it means to be human, and to discover a little more fully what it means to follow Jesus.